The Secrets of Summer
by lokiyan
Summary: Tripp/Blair. She didn’t want to play. Or maybe she couldn’t, because maybe like him, she was ready to run away with him right then and there. Two old lovers abandoning their wealth for a happy lifetime together.
1. So it is, just like you said it would be

The Secrets of Summer

Part 1 of 2

A/N: *sigh* Here we go again. I know, I know. Wth, Jessica? It started as a response to a prompt on **gossipgirlanon** that evolved itself in my brain. I can't help it! Anyway, the prompt was Tripp/Blair: Lolita. You have been warned.

It wasn't that he particularly enjoyed the family estate in Connecticut. In fact, a good part of him despised the place, but his summer housing assignment at Yale had fallen through and his parents insisted that he accompanied them to the family reunion. Tripp stepped out of the car, his khakis slightly wrinkled from the ride and the top button of his shirt undone. He held onto his personal luggage – a brown leather briefcase that had been a high school graduation present filled with the archaeology textbooks he needed to pour over for his undergraduate research thesis. If nothing else, he thought, this summer would be productive.

The air in Connecticut always smelled a little different and despite himself, he liked it. The sky was a light blue and the green around the estate burst with promises of new beginnings. He took it all in as the breeze ruffled his hair and the staff walked by with the rest of their bags. Perhaps the time away from campus was what he needed. Things had been so tense after he and Maureen decided to take some time off. Even if he spent the days locked away in his room at the estate, at least he didn't have to avoid certain places in the event that he sought human contact.

He was on the steps up to the front double doors when he first spotted her. She wore her dark hair in cascading waves against stretches of smooth alabaster skin that taunted him from beneath a thin white lacey frock that reached her mid-thigh. Her mouth was a soft peach pout that complimented the color in her cheeks and shaped her doll-like profile. She kept her eyes blankly ahead of her at a Vanderbilt football game.

The romantic in him would not let him forget, not even for a second, the moment she caught his eye and turned her face to him. She smiled so softly that he felt his chest constrict at its beautiful fragility and he might have imagined the spark that lit up in her eyes as she felt him take her in.

_She_ certainly lit a spark in _him_.

***

The last time he saw Blair Waldorf, she had been a slip of a girl. Her teeth were too slightly too big for her mouth and her eyes always glued to his younger cousin. Yet at dinner that night, as she held her _boyfriend's_ hand on the table right across from him and carried on polite conversation like a pro, he found himself unable to look away. The girl – because at sixteen, she could hardly be considered a woman – was simply captivating. Every nerve in his body called out to her in familiarity. She was the combination of every girl he had ever wanted as a teenager. He bounced his feet slightly at the energy amassed from the very proximity of hers under the narrow table.

He had few words but even those were unnecessary when her right knee bumped his and she met his gaze with an apologetic smile and a glance of her own that lingered for a second even as she turned her face to the conversation taking place to her right.

His helping of salmon filet was just served when he felt her cross her legs. She must have seen him shiver because the curve of her lips as she ran her moving limb up his calf before it rested on top her other leg could only be described as teasing.

He wondered how appalled the other Vanderbilts would be if they knew how hard he was during a family dinner, right under Johannes Vanderbilt's portrait.

***

There was something strangely, yet incredibly arousing about the fact that he had known the 'before' in this Ugly Duckling story, even if she could never really have been considered ugly. Still, he never expected for her to blossom as she did and to witness her continual growth was more inspiring than the texts that were collecting dust on his nightstand. He watched her from his window while she watched Nate, while she kissed Nate, while she sat on Nate's lap and thrust her tongue into Nate's mouth and let him slip his hand up her skirt just a little before she clamped her hand on top of his.

He acknowledged that the behavior was immoral at best and criminal at worst, but he could hardly help himself. Not when he was almost positive that sometimes her eyes fluttered open and caught his before turning away quick enough for him to believe that it had all been his imagination.

But then once, Nate brought her into his room and while the two cousins chatted, Tripp couldn't help but notice the way she ran a delicate index finger down the spine of Lynn Meskell's _Archaeology of Social Life: Age, Sex, Class Etc. in Ancient Egypt_.

The smell of Coco Mademoiselle that lingered on his sheets assured him that he had not imagined their encounter and he slept with the image of her clean, well-kept nails running down his arms, her hair mussed against his headboard.

***

He hadn't played football with his family since he was Nate's age, but he stood with her by the sidelines while the teams were picked and she turned her face to him over her bare shoulder. "I like winners."

His team beat Nate's by three points and he walked off the field with a victorious grin, as though half expecting the girl to run into his arms and spin around until they fell into a laughing mess. No, instead, she kissed her boyfriend in consolation while he ground his teeth.

He only felt slightly better when she looked over her shoulder again back at him and winked.

***

They shouldn't be there. Tripp knew better.

But then again, his brain never functioned well after 11 pm, let alone the fact that he was awakened by the girl showing up like a fairy at his door at 1 am to rouse him from his slumber.

She held her arms out for balance as she walked along the thin yellow line painted around the dimly lit pool. Her eyes stayed on the line as she spoke. "Nate and I broke up."

"I know." Of course he knew. How could he not know? She didn't question it either.

"He thinks Serena's better suited for him and wants to give it a try." She was wearing a little yellow sundress that rode up while her arms were still up. It made her look like spring. Her hair was in an uncharacteristically messy ponytail behind her and the blue of the water's reflection danced on her skin. "He thinks I'm not adventurous and spontaneous enough."

"Hm. Maybe you're just ill-matched."

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

It was as though her eyes sprouted invisible arms that constricted his throat because Tripp, who never had a problem devising a clever argument or opinion, who always spoke up and entertained his class with witty comebacks for his professors, physically could not say anything as she approached him like a predator.

As though he would ever run away from her.

"I can be spontaneous, Tripp. You know that, don't you?" He could only swallow in response; his Adam's apple bounced like a buoy and breathing was becoming a difficult task.

She looked down again, her hands smoothed out her dress before traveling down her body to the hem. With small, delicate fingers, she grasped the edges and lifted, taunting him with inch after inch of delectable flesh until it came over her head and onto a lounge chair. He did wonder about those red straps beneath the yellow dress and now he knew. She waited patiently, her eyes trained on his reaction before she slowly uncrossed her arms. He didn't know where to start looking and could only mutter "going swimming?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind." She sauntered up to him, hips swinging in confidence. Confidence probably gained by the way his jaw nearly hit the floor. She swung her hair free after she pulled the thin black elastic from it. She was so close that he could smell her perfume drifting up his nostrils and felt rather than saw her tip toe. Her body was leaning closer to his and just when he thought his mouth would finally meet hers, she stopped. "But not a bad idea."

She splashed him when she hit the water and he found himself taking off his shoes. Then his shirt. It all went until he was down to his boxers and even as he berated himself for this terrible idea, he slid his body into the pool.

His arms swung on their own accord as he kicked his legs behind him. They reached for her even when there was not nearly enough blood in his brain to think properly. He followed the sound of her giggles and laughs and he let her go a few times. Her evasion techniques were poor and he spent a good amount of his childhood sailing on the water so logic dictated that he ought to be able to reach her within minutes, but he had never seen her so light and carefree before that he was willing to wait a few more minutes as he halfheartedly chased her around.

Her legs were white as they reflected the pool lights and he grasped one so that when he pulled, she gave a tiny yelp before her body crashed into his and he held her small, slippery waist in his hands. He backed them into a wall and he told himself that's what capturers did to their prisoners lest they escape.

She breathed heavy when he ran his thumbs up and down the sides of her navel and the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest whenever she took a breath. Her left leg ground her, but her right folded like a crane, the bottom of her foot flat against the wall and the knee extended past his body, taking the leg of his boxers up with it. The inside of her thigh was the softest thing he had ever felt and he let his left hand relinquish its post and grip her leg around him. It perhaps was not the smartest thing to do; it brought his pelvis nearly right up against hers and her head threw back in a gasp.

The heat of her body was inviting and her face mesmerizing. There was a severe disconnect between his brain and his body because his mind was busy at work memorizing the way she looked with her eyes shut and her mouth open like that and his body was on auto-pilot as it moved its way closer to the warmth.

She shocked him back to earth when she began to move her hips against his.

He went rigid. It was something he had imagined a thousand times, but as it happened, his mind blanked.

"What's wrong?" He heard her voice, breathless. At least he wasn't the only one.

"Have you – have you ever done – that is, has anyone ever… touched you before?"

She shook her head, the wet strands of her hair brushing against him. "No." She brought her hands to his shoulders. "But Tripp, I want to – I need…" She couldn't say it and he knew she wouldn't be able to, so she just finished with a "_please_."

There it was again, that pesky romantic in him. It made his right hand tremble as he cupped her cheek and pressed a closed mouth kiss to her lips, all the while remembering the first time that summer when their eyes met under a clear blue sky. Against the innocence of that gesture, his left hand slid up her leg that had wound itself tight around him and rested on the swimming suit bottom that pressed close like a second skin, skin that no one else had touched before.

She moaned and pushed against his lips when he applied pressure onto the material, feeling his way around her, discovering the spots that made her shudder and groan. She didn't even have to try to get a reaction from him; her little pink tongue ran its way across his lips and his mouth opened as though he was taking his first breath and the hand that laid on her cheek travelled down to her neck even as he kissed her with everything he had. Every bit of passion she inflamed in him thus far in the summer and the soft pads of his fingers ghosted over her skin even lower to her collarbone, beneath a strap, across the top of her breasts and finally covered one with his palm.

She thrust her hip towards her and with a cute pout and that voice she used when she wanted her iced tea two minutes ago. "What are you waiting for, Tripp? I-I thought this was what you wanted?"

If she only knew how much he wanted this, she wouldn't have tempted him in the first place. But he was the older one here. He was not going to be a teenager's mistake. He would at least try to be noble. "Blair. You- you know I… Are you sure? You just broke up with – and I don't want you to do something that –"

"I'm being spontaneous tonight." She kissed him then, hard and rushed. "I'm yours, Tripp. Take me." He wanted to say yes. _God_ yes. But he knew what this was to her and it was entirely too different from what this was to him.

So in a way he gave her what she wanted. He pushed aside the cloth and slid his index finger into her and his body sang at the way she curled against him. Her breath was ragged as she leaned her forehead against his chest and he in turn laid his head against hers. He felt her eyelashes on his skin as she squeezed her eyes shut and her hands curled into little fists on his shoulders. He took a few calming breaths himself before he asked, "are you – is this all right?"

Even at her nod, he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of was that she didn't lie when she said that no one else had touched her there. She was tight, responsive, passionate laced with a twinge of fear. He could feel it in her slight tremble so he went slow. A soft, sensual rhythm until she herself grew impatient and urged him further with a kiss.

Her kisses and movements were a little sloppy, eager with age, and she was easy to satisfy and worship. She adjusted and he slipped another finger in, his thumb pressing against the very top of her slit. He studied her as he would an ancient relic, his free hand brushing over parts of her skin as he would brush dirt off at an excavation site, and applying firm pressure when needed. He swallowed her sighs and let the gentle waves crash against his back.

Yet for all her inexperience, she was not a selfish lover. Clumsy as she may have been, she angled her leg to rub against him in no consistent rhythm or force, but enough to cause his stance to falter and his hands to tense.

He found the spot he would never forget when she gave a choking sound and her eyes flew open. And he hit it again and again and memorized it so that no man would ever know her the way he did. Tripp worked harder than he ever had before to please someone and it paid off as her cries became louder and his name tumbled out from between her lips. Just as she came, she pulled his head down to her and pulled at his hair and pulled at his tongue with hers but still he could hear the hum in her throat and couldn't help but feel a little pleased with himself. But then she wrapped her hand around him through his trousers and any sense of pride drained from him as he fell apart so easily at a touch of her hand. He convinced himself it was the wait that did him in.

He helped her out of the pool on her jelly-legs as a gentleman would and averted his gaze to his own clothing when she slipped on her dress. "So thanks for…"

"Yea." He kept his eyes on her as he always had but she could not turn hers to him. He felt nauseated when he realized that reality had settled in for her. She wasn't the spontaneous girl and she was realizing this. Spontaneity didn't work for her and he was… he wasn't part of her plan, he supposed. "Don't worry, I won't tell Nate."

"Right, I mean. I wasn't worried about." He cut her off with a look that told her to stop. She was only making things worse. "Thanks."

And she ran off and he stared, as he always had.


	2. I can't take my mind off of you

The Secrets of Summer

Part 2 of 3

A/N: Sorry guys! I know I said that this was going to be a 2-parter, but I guess my brain disagreed. There will be a third chapter and I promise that's it. It'll be a bit more depressing, more like an epilogue, so remember to check it out. Also, in response to that one question about Dr. Lynn Meskell… Yeah, I definitely just googled "archaeology textbook" and that one was from the 1990s so it worked. Sorry! Thanks so much for you guys' support in my latest crazy indulgence!

Tripp couldn't focus. The more he couldn't focus, the more frustrated he became and the less he could make sense of the words on the page. It was a vicious cycle and what was worse was that it did nothing to get his mind off her. He was a grown man, for God's sake. He would be graduating from university in a year and he would present his thesis to a board of his professors but how could he do that when he couldn't even focus on preliminary research?

All he could worry himself with was the way she wandered alone across the estate now. Nate, the coward that he was (though Tripp supposed he wasn't any better himself), avoided his ex-girlfriend like a plague, but still threw stolen glances at her during meals as if trying to solve a radioactive puzzle. It was impolite to leave in the middle of the season and so she stayed and he pursued her as much as he could. She made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, that what happened was a lapse in judgment on both their parts and made him feel disgusted with himself. Still, he couldn't help walking in step with her on her walks and bringing his books to the balcony where she liked to read.

Occasionally, when she pitied him, she would throw him a bone. Anything would do – a look, a smile. Once, he even managed a kiss on the cheek.

But he couldn't focus now when the flat cardboard box felt to him as though it was burning a hole in his drawer. He glanced at it a few times until he finally snatched it up and marched over to her room. He rapped his knuckles on the elegant white door and she let him in. Her bed was inviting and he only sat when she did so and patted the space beside her.

She loved it. She said it was perfect and immediate put it on her head like a cream colored satin crown. Her eyes lit up and her cheeks matched her strapless pink dress and her lips split into a glorious smile. He decided he would buy her a hundred more headbands if it always made her this happy. "You look beautiful." He had never been more honest in his life.

With the sunlight streaming through the balcony window, reflecting off the white walls and the white sheets and the dark, smooth wood of the bed frame, she flung herself at him with a kiss. This seemed all right in the daylight – justified and pure – and she looked lovely as he lowered her back onto the bed and rested her head gently against the pillows. Even though sinking onto the length of her body felt so good and so right, he raised himself up on his elbows and stroke her face, pushed the stray strands away. Her mouth was swollen with his kiss. "I have to ask. Are you sure?"

"Will you always love me and buy me things?"

"Yes." He knew that for most of them on the Upper East Side, those two were equivalent.

"And you won't ever leave me?"

He kissed her forehead. "Never."

"And you'll be gentle?" she whispered.

"You're more precious to me than anything."

She looked at him for a full minute before she stuttered it out. "Then y-yea. I'm sure."

Her small, trembling hands reached for the hem of his polo and pulled it over his head before pressing him flat on his back. He was patient and allowed for her curiosity as she inspected his smooth chest. She kissed him where she pleased and smiled up at him with each content sigh he made. Then she sat up, leaning her weight on one hand on his chest and cocked her head to stare at him. "I'm a good girl, you know."

She looked so wistful for a moment that he sat up and held her to him, kissed her on her bare shoulders and cheeks. Her needs came before his – they always have. But then she began kissing his neck and smiling at him and a man could only take so much. He reached behind her and slowly unzipped her dress and she stood to let the material pool to the floor.

She was glorious, with the sunlight streaming in behind her, highlighting her hair in gold and falling against her soft, fair skin. He put his feet on the floor, but remained seated, afraid that he wouldn't have the strength to quite stand up and brought her close to him to stand between his legs. His hands gripped her waist down to her hips where a pair of pink lace panties hid her from him, complete with a little bow. As she looked down at him, her hair fell over around her face and she placed her hands on his shoulders.

Tripp wanted to take in this moment forever.

He leaned his head forward against the cushion of her breasts and heard her pounding heartbeat while her arms wound around his head and cradled him into a soft, gentle embrace. He committed to memory the way she smelled, the way she sounded, the way her skin tasted on his lips.

Her knees inched their way onto the mattress and brought her closer to him and he wondered how anyone could be so small. He had half the mind to pack her away with him wherever he went. It would be so easy to make room for her in his life and it would be something he'd gladly do. For just that moment, as she looked at him with softer eyes than he'd seen on her, he believed that she wanted that too.

He leaned his body back onto the mattress with his palms splayed across her back and brought her with him and just as he hit the sheets, he turned them around so she rested across the bed and he could prop up on his elbow on his side and catch an eyeful of her. He didn't want to miss a single spot with his hands or his lips. So he stroked down both her arms, kissed her breasts, sucked and licked where it pleased her, worshipped her midriff, studied her legs.

He could honestly do this forever and still have plenty to learn.

The girl took it all in stride, gasping and breathing hard, biting her supple lip at the feel of his warm tongue on her cooled skin, the safety of his hands as he handled her as though she was marked FRAGILE. She fisted her hands into her sheets, clenching and unclenching erratically as beads of sweat formed across her brow. Tripp was sure that she was a goddess.

Then small, hesitant hands reached for his waistband and he found himself to be completely nude and, for the first time since he was seventeen years old in the back seat on his prom night, he became nervous and self-conscious. In the light, she looked stunning, perfect, nested in her white sheets, but Tripp knew he had his flaws. He wondered what would happen if she realized how much better she could do than the grandson who was always overlooked for being too nice.

Her eyes finally shifted back to his and she must have seen the way he frowned under her inspection so she hooked her thumbs under her underwear and pulled them down. Like ripping off a band-aid and suddenly, they were both exposed completely in the sun.

He ran his fingers through the curls down her back and rested his hand there, right at the curve of her spine, and with a hand to her chin, brought her in for a sweet, slow kiss. He wanted her to have her fairytale. He wanted her to have everything. If she wanted to play the sweet, shy princess on her virgin bed, then he would be her prince. He would be confident for her, and playing the lovestruck half would not be in the least a game of pretend.

He touched her as he had that night, and every night in his sleep since and he delighted in the little sounds she made from his touch, or when her leg flexed, bending up then stretching out, he wondered if she had done this to herself as well.

When she was ready, he still asked. He wanted her to be sure and at her nod, he entered her slowly, resting on his elbows to make sure he wouldn't crush her. He waited as she adjusted, kissed the tear that rolled down the side of her face to her hairline. This part was inevitable, but still, he never wanted to hurt her. So he let her grip his forearms, as hard as she could, until the sharp pain subsided. He waited.

The way she felt around him was inexplicable. His arms trembled with the last bit of self-control he held within him. Metaphors could not describe how perfectly they fit together, even as her small, thin legs began to relax and cradle his body tenderly, pulling him further into her. He couldn't tell her how much he wanted to stay there for the rest of his life, and how he would give her everything she ever wanted if she just promised to never deprive him of this divine luxury and honor. So instead, he just said her name, moaned it and whispered it until he was sure that his voice was ingrained in her very bones.

They moved clumsily, her hipbone occasionally crashing into his at an odd angle until he held her gently by the waist to guide her movements. She kept her arms around his neck and her eyes on him, telling him what he needed to hear, how she wanted it and he responded in kind.

He told her he loved her and watched her head fall back in ecstasy as she basked in the tenderness of his affection. He didn't expect her to return the sentiment, he knew enough to surmise that she was not so fickle with her feelings as to give up on Nate, but she held his face in her hands and kissed him fully. For now, it was enough.

As he felt himself near his own end, he slipped a hand between them and pressed the flat of his index finger against her so that she cried out and curved her spine against him, her legs locked tight behind his back. He pushed her hair off her face and traced the strands with his fingertips down her shoulder to the valley of her breasts and her navel and kissed her chin and her nose while she gasped for air so he could hear her say his name.

Even as she clenched herself around him, he settled further and further inside her, sinking his entire body onto hers and burying his face at the crook of her neck and shoulder, her hair sticking slightly to his cheek.

She shivered slightly when he rolled off of her and he brought a sheet up to her waist, his arms winding around her and pulling her closer to him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks flushed a beautiful rose down her chest. He kissed her on the tip of her nose and watched as she scrunched her face up in a playful smile. He just couldn't stop smiling.

The wince she gave when she shifted slightly alarmed him. "Are you all right? Was I too rough? I'm sorry, I-"

She cut him off with a kiss. "You were perfect."

He discovered that night that she looked just as lovely in the moonlight.

***

The next two weeks could only be described as paradise. No, he didn't get much work done. In fact, he hardly managed to finish one text. Each time they kissed goodbye in the shadows, he had to force himself to stay put as she skipped away. At his desk, he would get through perhaps just a paragraph without discovering that he had been smiling like a fool to himself the entire time. It took until the third read-through to comprehend a single sentence. To be honest, if he had it his way, he wouldn't even waste any time during the best summer of his life with these books, but Blair insisted. His little bossy brunette even devised a study schedule for him. "All play and no work makes Tripp a very dumb boy," she'd said as she sat on his lap with his hand smoothing down her back.

He delighted in making her happy. Little trinkets he gave her, his feigned interest in classic movies, her insistence of keeping their affair a secret, he indulged her on every whim because when she smiled, all the calculating Upper East Side mannerisms melted off, replaced with deep dimples and the fresh fragrance of youth. It warmed his heart when she pecked him on the cheek, or snuck up behind him while he read to put her arms around his shoulders. He loved when she played with his reading glasses, or when she would put on one of his shirts at night and dance around the room for him to catch her. On occasion when they dined alone, he let her have the olives from his salad.

The best though, was when he overheard her speaking with Serena van der Woodsen over the phone. He feigned sleep as Blair kept to her hushed tone.

"Yes, Nate and I broke up."

"I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"Yea, I'm actually really happy."

He made her really happy. He pulled her closer to him and slept better than he ever had.

***

As much as he knew that it couldn't last, Tripp couldn't help but try to reach out and grasp the strings of their relationship for as long as possible. He despised the way her eyes began to drift back to Nate as the summer drew to a close. What's worse was that his dim-witted, but charismatic cousin was beginning to realize what a wonderful thing he lost.

Even as Nate spoke, he wanted to snatch the football he was spinning in his hands. "I don't know, man. I've just never seen her like this. I thought at least she'd be upset with me for a while or something, you know? But yesterday, she actually wished me luck with Serena."

"You guys spoke?" His voice was harsher than he expected and even Nate gave him a confused look. "I mean, I just figured that you wanted to cut ties so it wouldn't be weird when you go after her best friend."

"Yea, I thought that too, but I guess… I guess I'm just a little disappointed that she didn't fight for me harder. I mean, it's _Blair_. I used to hate not getting a free minute from her and now it's like she's sort of, well, over me."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, buddy. Just make sure you know what you want, I guess."

"Thanks, Tripp. You're the best."

***

Her hand ran through his hair idly as she came down from her high. She bit her lip when she finally looked down at him and he kissed her way up her body until he hovered above her. He ended with his lips on hers, a sweet and thorough kiss that made her curl her toes.

"Your turn?" She asked with the mischievous eyebrow raise that he had come to love so much.

Of course, any man who had a beautiful woman beneath him offering what she was putting on the table would jump at the chance, but Tripp was different. He wasn't just a man.

He was a man desperately and pathetically in love.

"Actually," he started as he ran his fingers through her hair. "I was hoping we could talk about Nate."

Her smile flew right off her face and he could feel her pull away. Her eyes avoided his and she began to push herself upright from his bed. "Wh-what about Nate?"

"Are you still – I mean, I know that you guys have a lot of history and this is…" He had no idea what he wanted to ask her. He had no idea if he wanted to even know what he couldn't ask. "Well, he actually came to talk to me earlier and – "

"Wait, you guys talked about me?" She pulled the sheets to her chest and began to scramble off the bed.

The words couldn't tumble out of his mouth fast enough as Tripp tried to recall what he had even said. "No, it's not like tha- I just mean –"

"What? What do you mean, Tripp? Do you guys compare notes about me? See which one of you got farther with me? Is that it? Well, congratulations, Tripp, you win. But you can forget about –"

"My God, no! I would never- all I need to know is whether or not you still have feelings for him. Because I'm ready, Blair. I'm ready to fight for you. I've never been more ready for anything my whole life, but I have to know what I'm up against here." She stopped to look at him, her underwear in one hand and the other still holding the sheet. "If Nate decides he wants you again, I need to know what you want me to do. I know you wanted to marry him and I know those feelings don't just evaporate into thin air, but – but I really want you to give me a chance. I _love_ you."

There was a moment when the air was still in the room and he could hear the way his heart pounded in his chest. It was one of those movie moments where everything hinged on that millisecond.

She approached him slowly, painstakingly slow as she crawled onto the bed and close to him. Her face was inches away from his and she put a hand in that mess of hair of his before pulling him close for a kiss. When they parted, she rested her other palm on his cheek. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me." He smiled. Perhaps it was worth it to throw himself out there, to put everything on the line.

It wasn't until later that night when he realized that she never gave him an answer.


	3. And so it is, the shorter story

The Secrets of Summer

Part 3 of 3

A/N: Let's not delay this any longer…

He bit her once.

It was a complete accident. As summer was drawing to a close, he became more urgent to show little Blair Waldorf that no one would ever love her as much as he did. Even as he tried not to frighten her away, he grew anxious at the choice that she would have to make in a matter of days.

He couldn't quite afford to lose. He was sure that he wouldn't survive it.

So he did different things to get her attention, to show her that he meant what he said when he'd told her he would fight for her. He took extra care with the gifts he bought her, left little notes on her pillow, and even played football more often to impress her. She was never on the field or on the many terraces of the mansion, but he could still feel her eyes on him, a smile lingering at the corner of her mouth.

And there, he fought. Like Paris had fought for Helen, he cared not for rules and when he saw Nate with that ball, he went for it. He didn't feel the least bit guilty about his teenage cousin being knocked to the ground when he scored that winning point. He saw her in a window, skin pale in the dark, and just as he was about to rush to her, his grandfather pulled him aside.

Never in his childhood could Tripp recall a time when Grandfather had taken an interest in _him_ but there he was, patting him on the back and telling him how impressed he was. "Never thought you had it in you, Tripp, but we just might make a Vanderbilt of you yet. We'll talk later about your plans after college."

"Is Nate okay?"

"He'll be fine. A little healthy competition never hurt anyone."

Still, he checked on his cousin, and when the boy greeted him with a "what the hell," he simply replied that he was having a bad day.

"Yea, I know that feeling. I talked to Blair yesterday and I still don't know, man. I like having Blair around but Serena is just… Serena. But then I miss the stuff that Blair and I do. I mean, we never did _everything_, but we did some stuff, you know?"

So he practically saw red as he approached her room, his feet carrying him while his fists clenched to the side. He couldn't get the picture of Blair and Nate out of his mind. Everything was blurry, but just the thought that he might have touched her or…

It was insane, really. He knew that the two of them have been dating for years. Hell, if it weren't for them, he hardly would have known Blair, but still… the very thought of it turned his stomach.

She was waiting for him, arms opened as she rushed toward him. She pulled his face down to her level and christened it with soft, butterfly kisses. "There's my little warrior," she murmured. He could feel the anger dissipating and he lifted her up and she wound her arms around his neck. "Looked pretty good out there on the field today."

"I would've loved to have my personal, gorgeous cheerleader." He set her down on the vanity and she peeled off his dirty t-shirt before casually throwing it to the ground. Her legs swung giddily on either side of him and he couldn't help but imagine himself in some sort of movie with this girl.

In that cute way that she did, she scrunched up her nose at him. "Cheerleaders are so suburban middle-class." He chuckled in indulgence and nibbled on her neck. "Besides, I don't think your family would appreciate it very much if I jumped from one boy to another. It would hardly do for me to acquire some sort of promiscuous label within the same family. The scandal!"

She was saying it in her joking tone, but still, his head shot up to face her and when he locked eyes with her, he used every sort of body language to convey his sincerity. "I meant it when I said that I would fight for you, Blair. If anyone even _dared_ to imply anything about you, I promise you I will make sure they don't make that mistake again."

She bit her lower lip smilingly and stroked his hair with her hand. "I know." She kissed his ear and nibbled on the lobe. "Have no doubt, Tripp Vanderbilt, that I know and adore exactly how you feel about me." In his breathlessness, he could hardly do anything except mumble, "good, good" with his trembling hands around her waist. "Still can't believe I turned nice guy _Tripp Vanderbilt_ into a brawler." He laughed because he couldn't quite believe it either. Then she pulled back and everything changed. "How _is_ Nate, by the way?"

His entire body tensed as the onslaught of images that haunted him on the way there came back. "He's fine," he dismissed. "I heard that you guys were talking yesterday."

"Yeah, he just wanted to check in. Make sure I'm okay since we haven't spoke and well, this is _his_ family reunion that I'm stuck at."

He should have stopped there. If he knew anything at all, he would have. But her nonchalant reply did nothing to calm him. If anything, it made him imagine a million more possibilities, especially when he knew what was running through Nate's mind. "That's it? You guys just talked?" She nodded. "No rekindled sparks? Talks about your future, or…?" Of course Nate didn't have any plans about their future. That was something Tripp would do, never Nate, who could hardly appreciate a perfect girlfriend when he had one.

"Tripp," she started hesitantly. "Listen, I don't – Nate and I aren't back together. And this thing we have… I don't know, okay? I can't just decide right this second or – it's just there are so many things to consider. We haven't really known each other that long and Nate and I have been – and then there's you going back to Yale in the fall but I do really like you. I have a good time with you. I'm just not ready yet, I guess, to commit to a decision."

All the reasons she listed, all the maybes and uncertainties, he could change all that. He could change his life to fit hers if that was what he needed to do. He just needed a chance. And he could tell her all that, but he decided that words weren't enough anymore. He'd spent all he could on words and now he had to show her.

So he smashed her lips against hers, fiercer than he ever had before and his hand cradled the back of her head before it hit the mirror behind her. He could hear bottles and makeup clattering to the floor but he was too preoccupied with his hands on her shoulder straps, pulling them, and the dress along with it. He pulled her into his arms and lifted her slightly to slide the whole thing off, a flurry of blue silk flew in the air momentarily before landing on the floor near his shirt. She stumbled a bit, having been taken by surprise, but she recovered quickly and placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Instead of roaming her body, his hands grabbed at the sides of her cheeks to pull her face closer, closer than ever until their noses pressed awkwardly into each others' faces and his tongue could easily reach the corners of her mouth that delighted her so. He poured all he had into that kiss – all the I love you's and Choose me's that were stuck in his throat.

And then he tasted blood.

He had wondered how it happened, he had only been nibbling on her lower lip, but there it was, the tiniest of cuts. He stumbled back for a moment, his thumb tracing the bright red stain on her lips. "G-god, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

But after that initial, stunning moment, she smiled wickedly and pulled him back to her. "Don't worry. I kind of liked it." So he kissed her again and touched her more fervently than usual. She fought him when he pinned her wrists on either side of her head but held him close with her legs. His thrusts were rougher and her cries were louder. Her nails dug into his back and her teeth found his shoulder as she came.

And he wondered right then, as he tasted the blood on his own lips, how much didn't he know about Blair Waldorf?

***

Grandfather wanted him to go to law school. He could take the LSATs at the end of the next semester and he'd have all of that school term to prepare for it. It was his way into politics, Grandfather had said. There was no reason why he shouldn't get into Yale Law with his grades and his last name. And if there were, he was sure it could be written off with a phone call from William Vanderbilt himself.

It wasn't his plan, no, but for the first time, Grandfather was noticing him. He was proud of him. It was enticing, that sort of attention. "Maureen would also be happy that you'd have a steady future."

That's right, Maureen. There was a girl not too far from here that still thought they were only on a break. That he would come back this summer with a big diamond ring ready to propose. Grandfather had said that she would make a charming little wife. The girl was 'unassuming.' He had a way of insulting and praising someone all in one phrase. It frankly didn't quite matter now. His plans have changed. And if he continued to go to Yale, he could still be around when Blair finally graduated high school. He could already see their charming little apartment off campus.

He couldn't wait to tell her all about it.

"Yale Law? What about archaeology? Indiana Jones? I don't know, Harrison Ford was pretty cute when he wasn't all covered in dirt." She threw another grape into her mouth and he watched her delicate little fingers dance around the bunch to find another fresh one.

"Well, I guess I just grew out of that stuff. I mean, I can't really be Indiana Jones if I want to settle down and have a family. Take care of people I love very much."

She froze when he held her hand. "Tripp, this is your dream we're talking about."

"It would be a bit of a dream come true if we both end up on Yale's campus at the same time in a few years. We could see each other all the time and - "

"I don't want you to hate me. You can't give up your dream for something that might not even…" Her breath began to quicken and she ran a hand through her hair. "You're putting me under a lot of pressure here, Tripp."

She got out of his bed and put on her shoes and his mind worked overtime to try to stop her. This wasn't the way he planned for this conversation to go. "I didn't mean to. You shouldn't feel obligated or – Blair, damn it, will you forget your shoes and just listen to me for a second?" She finished tying her straps and stood up. She felt so far away all of a sudden. "Look, I have faith in us. I want this more than anything and Yale could be the solution to all of our problems! And Grandfather is completely supportive of it!"

She wandered over to pick up Meckell's book that had remained closed for a good chunk of the summer. She tossed it back to him. "You once told me, at the pool, that you didn't want to be my mistake. Well, I don't want to be yours either. I want you to do what you love."

***

It was painful to know that she was actively avoiding him. Even at the larger social gatherings, he couldn't find a single trace of her in a tasteful dress mingling with high society where she belonged. All he knew of her was that she was doing well, and this he had to learn from Nate.

Everyone was set to leave in two days and he was at his wit's end. He couldn't leave things like this. Even if she thought she had given him an answer, he wouldn't accept it until he heard it straight from her. He was ready to march over to her room and _demand_ a decision when he heard a knock at his door.

She stood there with a cardboard box the size of a shoebox and he stepped aside to let her in. "I… wanted to know if you wanted these back." He didn't want to open it and even as his heart was leaping out of his throat, his hand shook as he uncovered the lid. There were the remnants of their relationship, jewelry and trinklets she could afford a million times over but made her happy because they were from someone who loved her. He shook his head and covered the lid back up before handing it back to her. He wanted to say something witty and be cool, something about how he had no need for them, he didn't wear headbands. But the almost painful burning in his throat told him that he might embarrassingly burst into tears if he were to speak. "I'm sorry, Tripp. I never meant to hurt you. I really do like you."

She put a hand on his arm and for her, he gave a watery smile and a nod. "Well, I had to give it a try."

Her forehead leaned forward to meet his. "And you did great," she whispered, her hands cupping his face. "And truly, I could very easily fall in love with you. I think I already have a little bit." She shushed him when he shook his head. "You're a _great _guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you and _God_ I really wished that Nate could be more like you. But I just don't see this working out in the long run and there's too much at stake here for both of us to… I want us, _this_, to end on a good note so that we can both look back on it and be happy."

She couldn't see it working out, but all he could see now was their future together. Her smiling on his arm at family and social events, him playing the doting husband. Showing her around campus, keeping all the frat guys away from her. She was still so small, so young. Maybe she was as much of a romantic as he was, just a pessimistic one, that's all. "I guess we still have two more days."

He would take what he can get.

She nodded and when she straddled him later, both naked with sweat sticking them to his sheets, he begged. "Tell me, please. I love you so much. Just tell me once. _Please_."

Accompanied by the bed springs, her voice etched itself into his memory. _I love you. Tripp Vanderbilt. I love you. I love you._

***

He watched the Archibald town car drive away and suddenly a memory hit him.

_"Hi Tripp! This is my friend, Blair. Blair, this is my cousin Tripp." He barely managed to wave before his seven year old cousin turned to the girl and said, "Now you know someone. I'm gonna go play soccer with Chuck."_

_She watched him go, her words dying at her lips. He was older and even then, felt sorry for the little girl with a crush. "So, Blair. What are you up to?"_

_She shrugged her little shoulders. "I don't know. I don't have anyone to play with." Her eyes glazed over with tears and she used tiny little fists to wipe them away._

_"How about you play with me then?" Mom was always telling him to look after the younger kids, right?_

_"Do you know how to play house?"_

_"I can learn." He took her hand and all that afternoon, she was Mama and he was Papa._

He supposed a part of him loved her even then.

***

His life was a bit of a blur after her so he could only say that it was a while before he saw her again. She looked different. Her dress was tighter than they used to be, her hair lighter, but she was so much darker than before as she wandered around lost. He heard about her parents – even sent a card wishing her well, but he never got a response and he took the hint. The entire night though, he could hardly keep his eyes on his fiancée. Instead, he watched for her and when she disappeared for a while, he breathed a sigh of relief only when she re-emerged for Grandfather's toast. He didn't think he ever saw her without a champagne glass in her hand at the reunion.

When he had gone to see Nate earlier that weekend, he wanted so badly to go see Blair. He just knew she had to be as radiant as before, if not more so. And having found out that she and Nate were no longer together and instead he was now with this nice, if not plain, girl Vanessa, he couldn't help the hope that swelled in his chest.

But then Maureen called to see how things went and he couldn't stomach the guilt. Not the guilt of not loving the redhead nearly enough, but the guilt of not waiting for Blair as he thought he would. Someone who couldn't even wait for the love of his life had no business in hers.

So he did what always made Blair happy – send Nate straight back into her arms. He knew there was no way Nate had told Vanessa about the internship. The boy was never good at the tough conversations. So he had it for him.

For Blair.

***

It was bittersweet to see her at his wedding rehearsal, in a church, at the altar as a bridesmaid with her own bouquet of little flowers, where he was marrying a girl who didn't come close to her for him. After seeing her again at the reunion, he was seriously contemplating blowing off the engagement if only she would have him back. But then he heard that they were attending the wedding together and he knew he couldn't put her in that position again.

Still, he would watch. He invited Nate to lunch and when he saw that he genuinely wanted to do good by her this time, he stepped aside. Tripp himself was nothing but his grandfather's political puppet now anyway, and he was nowhere good enough for her. But he hoped that Nate could be.

So he told him the truth about Grandfather.

***

It was definitive of their relationship that the first time they spoke in years, she was asking him about Nate. Still, he was happy to see her in her pretty dress and her headband, moving up to the top of the world where she belonged. He knew Maureen disliked her from that start and favored Vanessa since that one time when her name slipped out at the wrong time, but he had no doubt that Blair could take on his soon-to-be wife with a hand tied behind her back. Still, he felt the need to protect her, to tell off his own fiancée when she had told Blair that "it took a while to matter." He wanted to tell her that Blair mattered more than anything.

A lot had changed about her: she was more somber now, looking like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. With everything that had happened, he wasn't surprised, but that she still stood strong like a rebellious flower refusing to wilt under harsh weather told him that deep down, she was the resilient girl he loved still.

So when she tapped his shoulder and said his name, it was easy for him to blow off his fiancée who had been laughing at a lame joke he just told and respond to her. It felt good to say her name again. At the sight of her, his entire face relaxed and he felt like a kid in college again. Like that time when he first saw her as an adult in Connecticut under the sun.

"Did you say something to Nate?"

He nodded. Of course he knew this was going to be about little Nathaniel, like it always was. "He feels lucky, you know. That you two are back together." Her eyes looked unsettled then and he wondered if she was thinking about Connecticut too. He turned completely towards her just to get closer, even if they could never be quite close enough. "He told me how much you've both changed. Is that true?"

She paused and he indulged himself at the thought that perhaps she was as lost in the moment as he was. That she would falter, her eyes staring straight up at him. Tripp chose to believe what he wanted.

"Yes, of course. We've changed. A lot."

He nodded again. With him in his suit and her in her darling dress, his purple tie matching her headband, he felt like they were in one of her old movies. He was going to have to play the suave Cary Grant role even as he felt her slip through his fingers once and for all. "Well, be good to him, okay?" The words came out and he clenched his jaw because he really wanted to tell her again everything he felt for her.

She didn't want to play. Or maybe she couldn't, because maybe like him, she was ready to run away with him right then and there. Two old lovers abandoning their wealth for a happy lifetime together. That's the stuff stories were made of. That's why she was staring at him like, that's why – "What did you tell him?"

And he was going to tell her. Truly. He could never deny her anything and he was prepared to have the difficult conversation. But then, as he always did, Nate interrupted with the beginning of his toast.

"Oh no." He heard her as she turned away from him and he looked at her then. He saw her frown and her worry and he wanted to tell her it would all be all right. That he did all this for her. He couldn't say all that in the end. He was no Cary Grant. So instead, he reached out for her arm to provide at least a bit of physical comfort.

"Hey, hey," he'd said softly, so softly so that only she could hear. That used to calm her. He kept his eyes on her though, even as she shrank away from him, her eyes closed, determined not to look at him, and her mouth still in a frown. And he watched her still as Nate began his toast. It was what he did.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Maureen glance at him, then to Blair. It didn't matter to him that she saw. Hell, he wanted everyone to see because keeping their wonderful secret was _killing_ him.

But then he saw the way Grandfather destroyed her, the genuine smile on her face when she told Nate she was proud of him and the dejected way she tied her coat and walked out the door, he knew that it was over. For good.

He was getting married tomorrow.

A/N: That's it! I hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! Thank you again for all your wonderful support and bearing with my constantly changing mind about the length of this story! I'm sure I'll be back soon with more crazy 


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